Great Books About The Old West

Scarlet blood trickled from my thigh as I clutched Arvin Owen's hand. "My belly... It hurts so much..." He shook off my hand indifferently. "Come on, I know it's chicken blood you are using. Debby just suffered abuse from her husband and is now in the hospital without anyone to care for her. Don't be so spoiled!" But what flowed from me was not chicken blood. It was my life slipping away.

Title: Married To An Old Billionaire, In Love With His Son. Eve has no choice but to give up her own dreams due to her father's illness and the expensive operational costs. So she married an old billionaire who is old enough to be her grandfather. Despite the sexual harassment she faces on a regular basis, the humiliation she receives from the old man's son, Liam is another source of pain for Eve. Then, Eve's only thought is to make as much money as she can and get away from the family. Nevertheless, as Liam works with Eve, he gradually falls in love with the girl he used to loathe. What will he do about his hidden feelings for his stepmother?

There was an open secret among upper-class society. The wealthy man, Brandon Anderson, loved his wife to death. However, he was addicted to cheating on her. He would give everything those young women wanted from him, but he had one strict rule for them: not to expose anything to his wife. Everyone knew that he had loved his wife for ten years, and he had put in a lot of effort to marry her. He had once said that if his wife died, he would not survive. However, this latest mistress did not follow his instruction. She came to me because he doted on her. She sent me a lot of photos of condoms and his sleeping face. “Ms. Lowe, this brand is too good. I was screaming the whole night. Has Mr. Anderson ever used that with you?” It was that moment that I realized the young man who was infatuated with me had given his heart to me, but his body to other people. When I saw the photos, I cried so hard that I had no more tears. Then, I drafted a divorce agreement and signed it. I turned around and saw Brandon, seventeen again, crying as he stared at me.

The supplementary card I've issued for my grandmother shows that an eight-thousand-dollar purchase has taken place in another city. But the transaction records show that the money is used on hymenoplasty. I'm shell-shocked, to say the least. Grandma is 84 years old this year. She's been bedridden and paralyzed for years. Why would she even get hymenoplasty done on her, to begin with? But when my investigation leads me to a plastic surgery hospital, I find out that my wife, Stella Watson, is actually the lead doctor of said clinic. So, I call her to demand answers from her. However, Stella refuses to answer my questions properly. "Don't worry, honey. Something's most likely wrong with the system. Betsy is already this old—why would she have her hymen repaired?" That's just a bullshit answer coming from her. She seriously thinks I'm gullible enough to believe her. I merely huff coldly in return before calling my dad, who works in the Department of Commerce. "Dad, Stella is most likely cheating on me. I want her plastic surgery hospital as compensation for my impending divorce!"

Isolde Vancrest had witnessed the ultimate betrayal. Her long-time fiancé, Alan Princeton, had gotten his own sister-in-law pregnant, and he had the audacity to defend it. Alan: "You can't have children. The family can't end with me." How ironic. This was the same man who had once knelt nine times to propose, swearing he would rather be sterile than ever hurt her. If love was a joke, then pride had lost all meaning. That night, Isolde called the one man in Southbridge whose name most people feared to speak. By morning, she was his wife. When Alan saw her again, it was at her wedding. He dropped to his knees, eyes red. Alan: "Honey, I was wrong. Please… look at me." Isolde took a step back and fell into the arms of the man behind her. "The Prince," the ruthless ruler of half the city, wrapped an arm around her waist. "Seems you've forgotten your place." His voice was biting cold as he looked down at Alan. "Now she’s someone you don’t deserve to even look at."

My dream was simple: Build a quiet life with the person I adored after college. However, destiny had a different course in mind when my father revealed that I had to rescue my late mother's struggling business by marrying the merciless CEO, Alexander Blake. At first, life with Alexander appeared promising, but as the saying goes, nothing good lasts forever. That was until his childhood sweetheart barged in, shattering everything I held dear and leaving me with a whirlwind of shame, bitterness, and fury. I fled Texas for London, where I spent the next six years rebuilding my life. Now, I’m back in Texas with my son, Franklin, driven by a burning desire for revenge against everyone who has wronged me.

I, Alpha Lake Rush of the Rush Pack, hereby reject you, JoJo Wyatt, as my mate. However, you will need to keep working to pay off your debt." "Wait, what?" At the tender age of eleven, JoJo Wyatt had been forced to grow up faster than most. Coming from a challenging family background with a distant father and a fragile mother, JoJo realized early on that she had to take responsibility for herself and her younger sister. Her focus was solely on survival—love and romance held no appeal for her, especially after a devastating experience. She swore off relationships with men, but that changed when she began working for him in an unconventional role, trying to pay off roughly 7.8 million dollars for her mother’s hospital treatments. Alpha Lake Rush, 30, was known as the most formidable Alpha in the country. Though burdened by his own struggles, he had learned to be strong and decisive. His past experiences had led him to reject two of his mates. But when fate brings him JoJo, who is working to pay off her debt, everything changes. What happens when his destined mate turns out to be the one person he never expected—his third chance mate?

At three months pregnant, I was diagnosed with an ectopic pregnancy. My husband, a doctor, was overwhelmed with worry, pulling every string he could to arrange surgery and remove the baby. "As long as you're okay, it doesn’t matter if we don’t have our own child. We can always adopt. I can't lose you, Evelyn!" Heartbroken, I blamed myself for being useless, for failing to carry our child, and for disappointing my husband. But then, I accidentally saw his chat messages with another woman on the phone. "Don’t worry, I already told her she had an ectopic pregnancy." "I’ll have her sign the adoption papers soon, then find a way to bring you into our home." "Asher is my only son. I will make sure he inherits everything I have!" That was when I realized that the husband I loved so deeply had long since built another family behind my back.

Angela Bailey spent six years believing her marriage was built on love, only to discover her devoted husband was nothing more than a polished illusion. When she filed for divorce and asked her daughter to leave with her, the little girl clung to another woman’s hand and called her “Mom.” Donald Turner, cold and entitled, told her, “As long as you apologize to Nina, you can still live your high-society life.” Angela scoffed. “You might not even stay in high society yourself.” She walked out of the Turner household with nothing, determined to rebuild her life from the ground up. With her own talent and grit, she joined a new company and went head-to-head with her ex. Just when Donald realized his mistake and wanted her back, another man stepped into Angela’s life—someone who protected her openly, supported her quietly, and cherished her without hesitation. Donald regretted everything and wanted her back. He appeared with their daughter, eyes red as he pleaded, “I’ll give you the entire Turner family. Please love me and our daughter again.” The man beside Angela laughed. “The Turner family? That means nothing. Angela doesn’t need it. And as for a daughter…” He looked at Angela, and together they said, “We already have one.”

Wendy Lloyd's first love, Hudson Clark, treats me like a walking blood bank. Because of that, I end up dying in the rented apartment Wendy has given to me out of contemptuous pity. Today is the third day of my death. My six-year-old son, Terry Heath, finally realizes that something is wrong with me. When he accidentally cuts his finger from playing with his toys, I don't coax him at all. When he tears open a pack of cookies and feeds one to me, I don't stop him at all. When he lies in my arms and grips me by the hem of my shirt while calling out to me softly, I don't respond to him at all. Feeling rather uneasy, Terry finds my phone and calls Wendy. "Mommy, why is Daddy still asleep?" Wendy responds by sending a photo of her and Hudson enjoying a holiday feast together. She then says coldly, "He's just asleep, not dead. Today is Christmas Eve, so I'm very busy right now. "Tell that arrogant father of yours that he's only free to visit me whenever he's ready to acknowledge his mistakes." After that, the call ends. Terry is left feeling stunned for a long time. Finally, he digs out the last cookie from the trash can and snaps it in half. Then, he feeds it to me again. "Daddy, let's eat."